Harry Potter and the True Blood Contingency
by disciple of yorae
Summary: AU In the golden trio’s sixth year there is great change. Someone takes Dumbledore’s place as headmaster of Hogwarts which cause a radical change in the student body. This fic is fun and fluffy. not a serious story.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but this plot, if I did I wouldn't be waiting to save up for college. I make no money from this, unless one of you are kind enough to send donations but I doubt it.

Summary: In the golden trio's sixth year there is great change. Someone takes Dumbledore's place as headmaster of Hogwarts which cause a radical change in the student body and ushers in a revolution

Rating: M some naughty bits but that wont be for a while.

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Harry Potter and the True Blood Contingency

By

Disciple of Yorae

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Chapter 1: Awaiting the Return

It was a typical English summer as the sun shone brightly on little whinging. A place that could be described as remarkably unremarkable. No more so then along Privet Drive, a place where all the houses looked the same with the same lawn, the same white picket fence and even the same cars all parked in the driveways, or at least they would be if it weren't the middle of the afternoon leaving all the upper-middle class men off to work while the wives stayed home and took care of the house and kids. It was a quarter past one and all the little children where in the park playing with renewed vigor from their recent lunch meal, many still with the remnants of the peanut-butter and jelly dried to the corners of their mouths. They played the average kids games; tag, hide and seek, cops and robbers, etc. Mostly it was the boys playing since they picked on many of the girls calling them gross while the girls responded in kind with their mantra's of "boys are stupid" all the while blissfully unaware of how quickly there opinions would take a drastic change in the coming years... Well maybe not for the girls, but you get the point.

The older children, or at least those not stuck doing chores or with jobs of their own, were outside roaming with their cliques doing whatever it was that their group was known for. Some were at the local mall either browsing through clothes or looking at other "things" that they found even more appealing. Some were lurking in alleyways and in parts of the park where they would be safe from prying eyes while they did their illicit activities just to get back at there perfectly average parents and perfectly average lives. Others were in the park playing games like football, they were the perfect crowd, the ones that every kid hated and every parent adored. They had good looks, good grades, lots of friends, and were good enough at everything they did to make the other kids look bad. There was one group left and this particular clique was the type to pick on people who were smaller than themselves or those in smaller groups. This group was lead by one Dudley Dursley, or Big D as he was called, a whale of a boy that could make the walls shake with his approach but his flabby appearance hid well the fact that he was incredibly strong for beneath his layers of flab lie the large and well developed muscles that made him junior regional heavyweight boxing champion, undefeated in the ring and on the streets. To the younger residents of little Whinging he was to be feared.

Dudley lived at house number four on Privet Drive with his mother Petunia, and father Vernon, two people that valued normalcy above all else. How ironic it is that 15 years ago on their doorstep was found a little baby boy, Petunia's nephew, whom no one would call normal. It was that little boy, now 16, that now rested on an old worn out bed in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive, not that he would complain, it was a definite improvement over the cupboard beneath the stairs. He laid in bed wearing tattered clothes that were far too large looking up at the ceiling, not that he was tired he just didn't feel like doing anything, his brilliant green eyes were glossed over while he was lost in thought. His deep black hair hung wild and unkempt as always, though now it was slightly longer. He had been letting his hair grow, hoping that it would cover the scar on his forehead. It was this scar, the lightning bolt on his forehead above his right eye, that identified him as THE Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived and future savior of the world, for Harry was a wizard and there was no time more than now that he wished he could be someone else.

Harry considered the best day of his life to be his 11th birthday, they day Hagrid came and told him that he was a wizard and that he would be able to leave the awful Dursleys behind and be with people like him. It was most definitely better at Hogwarts even though in his first year he had to protect the Philosophers Stone from his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who happened to have part of Lord Voldemort, the man who killed Harry's parents, attached to the back of his head. Each year had gotten progressively worse after that, second year he had to enter the Chamber of Secrets and fight a basilisk, third year he had to keep away from escaped murderer Sirius Black only to find out he was innocent then protect him from a hundred dementors, fourth year was the Tri-Wizard tournament where after many exhausting trials Harry walked into a trap and watched a fellow class mate, Cedric Diggory, murdered then witnessed the return of Voldemort, and was locked in a duel with Voldemort but somehow managed to escape with Cedric's body. Fifth year was by far the worst year, Voldemort had found a way to invade Harry's mind and projected the image of Sirius being tortured to Harry. He of course rushed of to help, he did after all, as is friend Hermione put it, have a "saving people thing". But Sirius wasn't there, it was a trap and in the end Sirius, the closest thing to a father Harry ever had, died. Fate was not through with Harry Potter though, a mere 30 minutes after watching his godfather fall through the veil of death Harry was confronted by Dumbledore, a man he had come to respect, and discovered he had been lied to for his entire life. Harry was destined to fight Voldemort, had no choice in the matter and in the end one would have to die by the others hands. He didn't take the news too well.

Everything was his fault, that's how he felt for his first 2 weeks back. The reason his parents were dead was because Voldemort had heard part of the prophecy and decided to end it early. Sirius was dead because Voldemort wanted the prophecy and tried to trick Harry into getting it. And now he had to prepare himself for a life and death battle with a man who had already killed hundreds without a second thought. 'Everything would be easier if I was never born' He thought. Sometimes he wished that Voldemort would come and kill just so that it would be over. He was trapped in darkness, as his thoughts shifted and he'd work himself into a rage the lightbulb would explode. After the fourth bulb in three days he stopped changing it.. He cried himself to sleep at night , at least when he went to sleep,. He would wake up with nightmares every time he slept, every time it was the same thing. He would watch Ron get attacked by the brain, he'd see Hermione getting hit with that unknown curse and collapsing, Neville screaming in agony because of the crutacious curse, finally he would watch as Bellatrix and Sirius dueled. He would try to help, try stop Sirius but it always ended the same, with Sirius falling backwards into the veil and harry would scream, both in the dream and the real world. Vernon surprisingly would not scream at him like he used to, he guessed that his uncle now feared the man with the green bowler hat and electric blue eye.

On the day that Harry had arrived at kings cross from his fifth year at Hogwarts, there Mad-Eye Moody had warned the Dursleys against hurting Harry in any way. After hugs and words of encouragement from his friends Ron and Hermione, the Dursleys sped of towards home. As much as it enraged Vernon to be told what to do in his own house he held himself from lashing out at Harry, after all one does not invite the wrath of those _freaks_. Fortunately for the Dursleys Harry quickly went to his room without a sound. The Dursleys avoided Harry like the plague except for every now and then to make sure he was sending the owls to the order. Harry's letters to the order were the bare minimum "I'm fine". He didn't even understand why the order had him right the letters, they kept him under constant surveillance anyway. He was becoming quite adept at knowing when someone apparated near by, it was as if he could feel there presence, not that he needed to when it was Tonk's shift, somehow she has managed to trip over something everyday. a lot of people are starting to think there is a wild dog lose.

He didn't blame himself for Sirius's death anymore, it was still a tender issue but he was beyond thinking he was responsible for it. The prophecy however troubled him all the time. Supposedly the power the voldemort doesn't know about is love, at least according to Dumbledore, but how is that supposed to work? It seemed more like a guess, or maybe just something to keep his hopes up. But how was he supposed to know anything about love? His family hated him, the only people who ever loved him are dead.

One good thing did come from his time of brooding, the broken light bulb gave him ideas. He would have done Hermione proud with the amount of reading he did, he had the time since there was no homework following O.W.Ls. If a child could suddenly cause a teacher's hair to turn blue or apparate to the top of a building, what could stop an adolescent wizard with knowledge of magic do the same? He thought about that question for days before the answer came to him. Oddly enough it came to him when his mind drifted to Hermione and how she instructed Ron on the proper annunciation and wand movements of _Wingardeum Leviosa._ She, like Ron, could not produce any effects without everything being perfect yet harry stayed quiet cause he was able to get his feather to lift a little even though he did it wrong. Hermione maybe the brightest witch in a century but is Harry was quite possibly the most powerful wizard since Voldemort, even more so if the prophecy is true. He doesn't work in the boundaries of magic, he makes the magic work for him. He was able to produce a corporeal potronus at the age of 13 when most adults cant do the same, when he learned the summoning charm he was able to use it from nearly a mile away. As a wizard or witch grows they become ingrained in practicing proper movements and proper annunciations so they stop believing magic can be done any other way. Magic is simply the application of will to change the natural properties of energy and matter. Well...okay that isn't so simple. Even simpler version is making something happen by wanting it enough.

Harry started to explore this idea from the bulbs he destroyed in his anger and realized that with extreme emotion magic comes out in waves. He would work himself into a rage and try to control the results, as time went on he needed to get worked up less and less till all it took was concentration. was beginning to make progress, he wasn't even close to what he was able to do with a wand and wasn't about to risk attempting spells but he was able to move small objects about his room with no problem. It did take him a week to move his quill but now he could float a book, albeit slowly but still it is quite the accomplishment. Floating an object proved much more difficult with out a spell than he originally thought First the force against the object must be equally distributed, second the amount of force used must remain constant or else it will wobble and fall, third a precise amount of force must be used ,otherwise the object would shoot up through the ceiling or crash to the ground. floating objects about his room practiced his control and worked out his 'magical muscle', he even tried rotating the object on different axis while floating but that drove him to the point of exhaustion. Though it did tire him out he was growing able to do this longer and longer. While it only took his will power to use this ability he found that focusing his magic through his hand, much like a wand, did make the process easier but did make his hand sting if he tried to hard, once it even caused a cut to form on his palm.

Harry was so lost in thought that he did not realize several hours had passed and night was approaching. TAP TAP TAP. The sounds of an owl at his windowsill startled him out of his trance. When he opened the window an old light brown owl that he could not identify flew to his desk and extended its leg. After relieving the owl of its burden and offering it some water the old creature flew off into the distance.Harry turned over the letter to find it sealed in red wax with the emblem of the Marauders. Chuckling softly to himself he opened the letter and read it.

_Heading to You Know Where. The old crowd will be there in an hour. Be ready._

_Moony_

Moony. The nickname of his former defense against the dark arts teacher and friend to his father and godfather. Harry worried a lot about the aging werewolf, he had already lost his friends once then had one of them come back only to be taken away again. He was not sure how Remus was doing and did not think he was ready to face him. He didn't think he was ready to go back to Sirius's former home either, there were some strong memories there, memories he'd rather not be forced to relive right now.

He began to move all his belongings into his trunk using his new found ability, magic, much like a muscle, needs to be exercised if it is to be stronger. As he moved his latest birthday presents into the trunk his mind drifted to his friends, now those were the people he was really not ready to see. He was ashamed to admit it but harry had ignored his friends all summer, he had a lot to deal with at the time and was not ready to talk about it, he was not sure if would ever even tell them what the prophecy said. Ron had only mailed him a couple times a week at most, just wrote whatever he was thinking of and asked some friendly questions, his letters had developed the habit of taking some odd turns from time to time but Harry just wrote that off as not having anything to discuss. One does tend to run out of topics when there is no one else talking.

He moved the book _Occlumency For Idiots_ and gave an involuntary shiver. The reason for this reaction was the person who gave him this book was Hermione and quite frankly at this point she scared him more than Voldemort did. She, unlike Ron, had written to Harry everyday, sometimes twice a day. In fact the day he got back from Kings cross there was a letter from her. Since he had not reply to a single one she simply responded by writing with increased fervor. Some letters were just mad ranting and threats that under normal circumstances he would have found very amusing if he wasn't terrified that she would at least attempt to follow through with them. His hand covered his crotch as he thought of some of her more 'vivid' threats and shuddered. He was definitely glad she didn't know how to send howlers, he would have been out on his ass in a week.

Hermione. Damn did he feel guilty. After all they had been through he felt like he had abandoned her. After all that crap he gave them last year for keeping things from him but they had no choice. He was purposefully doing this and it did not settle well. She was always loyal to him, in third year she turned in the firebolt, he was mad then but eventually he understood that she was worried about him, after all there was a killer after him at the time. But then again wasn't that true of every year? Fourth year she stuck by his side when Ron hadn't, she had done nothing to deserve what he was doing to her. She had even gone to the department of mysteries with him when she was sure it was a trap, why does she have to be right all the time? It almost killed him when he saw her fall, the nightmares of her were almost as bad as Sirius. 'It was for their own good' he kept telling himself ' the farther they are from me the safer they'll be'.

With his trunk packed he gave his room a once over and once satisfied that nothing was missing he carried his trunk, broom, and Hedwig's cage and headed to the living room. As he came down the stairs on old floor board alerted his relatives to his presence and Vernon looked up with a bewildered expression on his fat face.

"What are you doing down here boy?" his question was warranted since they had not seen hide nor hair of him in weeks, he worked his schedule around avoiding the Dursleys. Going so far as to wake up early to get his breakfast and eating dinner well after they'd fallen asleep. When he went out he would make sure that they were either gone or otherwise occupied.

"_They _will be here in 15 minutes to pick me up." he responded in a neutral tone. No need to upset the fat man now.

Vernon's eye twitched for a second before he gained control of himself and he visibly tensed. "'bout time." the fat walrus muttered before speaking up. "We wont need to see you off will we?" he obviously did not want to spend any time around those _freaks_ if it was avoidable.

"No. If all goes well they'll be here less than a minute."

"Good." he nodded his head to agree with himself then turned back to his food.

Harry sat on the couch walking the clock move far too quickly than what could be considered normal. Each minute that past made him more and more nervous. With less then a minute till they were to arrive he was practically twitching and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. With a sudden sound of swirling winds, a thud and an "oouff" harry turned to find four member of The Oder of The Phoenix. Remus Lupin, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and picking herself of the floor mumbling something about "stupid sodding portkeys' was Nymphodora Tonks. Harry stood to get them while she dusted herself off.

"Wotcher harry." she announced with a cheerful grin and bubble gum pink hair.

"Hello Tonks." he didn't dare use her first name.

Moody suddenly turned on harry and pointed his wand at the young man. "Who's the bitch in the hall?"

Harry was shocked. "Wha?"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION BOY!"

"Mrs. Black." harry almost shouted in a panic.

The man gave a twisted grin and lowered his wand. His creepy blue eye spun wildly "Good, though I expect a better reaction next time. We had your back for several seconds before you even knew we were there. That's all it would take to bring you down. Remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE."

"You ready potter?" grumbled Kingsley.

Harry pointed to his trunk. "All right there."

Now Remus walked foreword slowly, almost unsure of himself. He looked older than he usually did which is saying something. He paused for a moment and just looked at harry, tears waiting to form and crawl down his face, then with a sudden burst of speed enveloped young Harry in a hug worthy of the Weasley matron. Harry was surprised and tensed up, he was still not used to this kind of physical contact, growing up with the dursley made him equate closeness with pain. He was getting better but it was still foreign to him so he slowly relaxed into the hug. He felt a hand slowly rubbing his shoulder and found a sad looking tonks with a smile that didn't reach her now purple eyes. Remus released Harry and grabbed him by the shoulders holding him at arms length and gave him the once over. "So Harry. How are you?" he seemed barely able to keep his voice steady.

He looked into the old werewolf's eyes. "All thing considered I think im doing pretty well." that was the truth but being around the last of the marauders did upset him a little and it showed.

Remus gave him a pained smile. "That's good. Let's get going. Here." he held out an old quill which harry and the others grabbed. He felt the tell tale pull at his naval and with the whipping of winds and a technicolor explosion harry found himself face first in the dirt and a crumpled heap of tonks on top of him. Rather painfully.

"Sorry Harry." The bubbly witch chuckled.

Harry doubted the apology a little since after all she was laughing. But he accepted it anyway. "Its okay."then gave her a wicked grin. "I'm used to young witches throwing themselves at me."

She responded with a huff and a glare and Harry and Remus couldn't help but laugh a little. Harry picked up hedwigs toppled cage amidst her angry hooting and his firebolt while Remus picked up the trunk. Wands at the ready the group made there way across the street and waited for #12 Grimmauld Place, the headquarters for 'The Order'. As the building magicly pushed apart house number 11 and 13 and popped into place harry took a deep breath. He was really not ready for this. He looked up to find the others at the door waiting for him. Each step seemed menacing as he made his way to the threshold. The door opened before him and with one last deep breath he closed his eyes and stepped through.

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_Okay, that came up a lot later than I planned but my computer was being annoying. There isn't really any changes yet, you probably won't notice them until about chapter nine went the changes become dramatic. I'm trying to take away the really smutty stuff and replace it with something fluffier. Hell, if I work real hard I could probably work this down to a PG-13 story. I'm not going too because that will also limit my language and some violent parts in the future. yes, despite all the parts that make you go awwww in this story there is an actual plot, I hope to bring it out more with this revision. My plan is to post a revised chapter every week until I get up to the new chapters when they will be posted once they are finished. sorry again about the wait, until next week._


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